Musings by Booth
by firstadream
Summary: This is a collection of quick drabbles, all from Booth's point of view, all about Bones, and all fluffy. Please R&R!
1. Hug

**Yay! New project! I have no idea where this came from, but I'm totally excited. The idea is to write mini fluff drabbles from Booth's point of view. Just 'cause I love to get in the big guy's head. Most of them will focus around Brennan, of course, and all of them will be completely adorable. I'll probably update every few days. Enjoy! **

Let me tell you something about Bones: there's this sound she makes when I hug her, this humming in the back of her throat, long and soft. She makes it in that moment when my arms lock around her, when she relaxes into me, all soft and warm and Bones. It's this ridiculous combination of feminine and sexy and sweet that drives me a little crazy while simultaneously making me fall that much more in love with her.

The thing about Bones is that about ninety-nine percent of the time, she's more like a brick wall than a person. She walks around in that lab coat of hers, spouting squint speak and keeping the world at arm's length, her face passive as she bends over victim after victim. She's dazzling in her brilliance, but the other side of her, the softer side, is what I live for. I never know when it's coming. We'll be sitting at the bar, chewing over our latest case and she'll turn to me and say, "I trust you." Or we'll be lying under my sink, so close that I can feel the curve of her hip against my side and she'll admit that despite all our differences, she still feels close to me. And no matter where we are, no matter what we're doing, every single damn time, I'm just knocked sideways by her ability to surprise me, to make me feel again and again, how deep my devotion for her runs.

But that sound she makes. Holy hell, you have no idea. It's like a cat purring. It's a sound that says, "I feel safe in your arms." That moment when she melts into me, her arms around my waist, her head on my chest, that's the moment when all her walls come down. When I can almost pretend that she's mine.

One time she fell asleep. Actually fell asleep, standing there, leaning against me. I wouldn't have noticed except she started to snore. (Cutest damn thing ever, by the way). It reminded me of this one time when Parker was a baby. He was just a few days old and I was standing in the living room, rocking him back and forth to an old Stevie Wonder album. And as we swayed, his head under my chin, two tiny little hands resting on my chest, he fell into a sound sleep and I remember wanting to cry because this tiny, innocent thing trusted me enough to fall asleep in my arms. That's what it felt like with Bones. For different reasons of course. Here was a woman who never let anyone in and here she was with enough trust in me to completely let her guard down, to know I'd never let her fall.

Of course, when she woke up about three seconds later and realized what she'd done, she pulled away, flustered and embarrassed, a tinge of red blooming in her cheeks. I acted casual, even though I was totally touched by the whole thing, and said I'd see her tomorrow. She'd nodded and retreated behind her desk, face red, eyes downcast and I'd left. The next day, she was all business, every last brick securely in place. But I knew she would come around again soon. I knew that sooner or later, that wall would fall again and I'd be there when it did.


	2. Kiss

**Two chapters in one day. Wow. This is a first. But I'm loving these quick snapshots. Hope you are too! :)**

Let me tell you something about Bones: there's this sound she makes when I kiss her, half-sigh, half-moan, so sexy it makes my knees go weak. She parts her lips and runs her hands up my chest. Presses her fingers to the back of my neck and holds my mouth to hers in this way that's both demanding and maybe a little desperate. And just as I get that first taste of Bones, my tongue sliding against hers, lips melded with hers, she rocks onto her toes, pressing the entire length of her body against mine. Presses so close that I can feel every curve of her body.

The sound comes when we're deep in the kiss, when my hands have already migrated beneath her blouse, when I'm already dying from the bliss of having her this close. Her lips will soften slightly against mine, maybe she'll press a kiss to my jaw or my cheek, maybe her hands will move inside my jacket and run over my stomach. Then she'll find my mouth again and now the kiss is tender and she's melting against me. That's when it comes, a breathy moan vibrating against my lips. My hands tighten around her waist as she shifts restlessly against me, looking at me with those dark eyes that mean sex. That's the moment I have to pull away, because I know if I don't I'll be ripping her clothes off even if we are in her office or my office or the park or the elevator. She has the ability to make me forget my surroundings, something I learned the hard way.

We were in a movie theater, watching some action thriller, when Bones suddenly leaned over and kissed me. I kissed her back, remembering a particularly memorable night in high school when Suzy Kindle and I made out to _Say Anything_ in the back row of the theater. For a while, it was nice. Just some sweet, Bones kissing. But then she parted her lips and made that sound and suddenly she was on my lap, leaning over me, filling the air around me with her smell and her sighs. I groaned quietly, my arms tight around her waist and she slipped her hands inside the open collar or my shirt, running her cool fingers across my heated skin. I whispered her name and she whispered mine and the sounds of gunshots and squealing tires faded away replaced by her soft moans and deep kisses.

I was working my way up the buttons of her blouse when the theater fell silent and the lights came on. I was dazed. Mercifully, Bones didn't stand up, and I had a moment to calm down, name a few saints, run down some box scores. She leaned against me, hiding her gaping blouse from view and everyone filed out of the theater. If they thought it was weird that she was in my lap, they didn't say anything. It would've been weirder if we had been naked, which was definitely the direction I had been headed when the credits rolled.

Once everyone was gone, Bones stood up and buttoned up her shirt, before throwing me a mischievous grin. "You realize you would've been naked in about three more minutes," I told her.

She shrugged easily and reached out to straighten my shirt and smooth down my hair. "I would've stopped you." She grinned again. "Maybe."

I laughed and slipped my arm around her waist. "You're unbelievable," I told her, pressing a kiss to her temple. And I meant it.

**Um, adorable much? I love these two to bits and pieces.**


	3. Love

**Another chapter! Dang these are fun to write!**

Let me tell you something about Bones: there's this look she gets when I tell her I love her, part wonder, part joy, and yes, a little bit of fear too. It's the wonder that gets me. Like she can't believe that I'm standing here saying, "I love you," and that I'll be here tomorrow to say it all over again. It's the same look she gets every morning when she wakes up and looks at my face, as if she's almost surprised that I didn't leave the moment her back was turned.

The first time I said it, we were in bed, all wrapped up in each other between the sheets. She was very warm and very beautiful beside me, her head resting on my chest, the strands of her disheveled hair tickling my chin. Bones after sex has gotta be one of the most perfect things in the world. The way she curls into me on a sigh, presses a kiss to my chest, and closes her eyes, sated and spent. The way this peaceful, sleepy look settles across her face. The way her hand settles over my heart. The simple intimacy of it all just makes my chest ache.

It was in one of these moments that I first told her. We had woken up early, before the alarm, before the sun, and found each other in the dim light, melting together like we couldn't bear to be apart any longer. We didn't even talk, just kissed and held and moved together in breathless silence like something out of a dream. The sun was just rising when we fell back against the sheets. I pulled her close and kissed her forehead and watched as sunlight replaced the shadows on her face. "I love you," I murmured. It was the first thing either of us had said all morning.

For a while, she didn't move, just kept her eyes closed, apparently indifferent. But I could feel her quickened heartbeat against my chest and the way her hand pressed into my shoulder. "Bones," I whispered, already regretting the words. I didn't mean to scare her. I didn't want her to leave.

She opened her eyes when I said her name and I immediately relaxed, because I could see that there was no panic in her eyes, just that tinge of fear that's never quite gone away. "You do?" she asked softly and tears filled her eyes as the words left her mouth.

"Of course I do," I promised.

She nodded and swallowed. "Okay," she said. She let out a shaky breath and gave me a shaky smile and I pulled her on top of me so that I could feel every dip and bend of her body and feel how perfectly each one fit against me.

"Okay," I said and kissed her soundly on the lips.

**REVIEWS=LOVE.**


	4. Fight

**More fluff!**

Let me tell you something about Bones: there's this look she gets when she's angry with me. Her lips purse, her jaw sets. She tilts her head back and crosses her arms over her chest, leveling me with a gaze that's both stubborn and combative. I'd probably call it cute, except for the fact that most of the time, when I see that face, I'm just as annoyed as she is, so I don't get to appreciate the quirk of her lips or the little furrow that works its way into her brow.

Sometimes, my love for her ends up being the deciding factor in our arguments. I mean, I'm a stubborn guy, and I like to win, but most of the time, when we're going at each other, she'll inevitably do something that just makes me melt. Some look, some gesture that flicks a switch in my brain, that makes me think, "What are you doing standing over here fighting with this woman? Shut up and kiss her."

Just last night we got into an argument because she stood me up at the diner for lunch. She said she lost track of time while she was reassembling a skull. I said she needs to eat. She said, "Is that really what this is about or are you just annoyed you had to east alone?"

That's when my annoyance level went from about five to eight. "Well of course it's a little bit about that, Bones! What am I supposed to think when stuff like this happens? That a skull is more important than me?"

"Booth," she said reasonably, "I didn't make a conscious decision to stay at the lab. I didn't cognitively choose the skull over you. I just lost track of time."

"Well, next time set an alarm," I snapped.

That's when it happened. That's when I broke. She sighed, gave me a look, put her hands on her hips and there was just something in the way she was standing, all indignant and beautiful and infuriatingly willful that made me smile. She frowned in confusion when she saw my expression soften from anger to love. "Booth?" she asked curiously.

I walked over to her and put my arms around. I couldn't help it. She was still frowning when I kissed her. She probably thought I was bipolar. "You're just lovely," I told her, kissing her again.

"You are crazy," she said definitively, but I could feel her body begin to relax into mine.

"I can't stay mad at you," I said, a confession that came back to bite me in the ass more than once.

She smiled. "Well, that bodes well for me."

I nodded and held her tighter. "You're infuriating," I said, my lips whispering across hers, "and I love you."

She sighed and leaned into me, her head falling to my chest, her arms winding around me. "Thank you, Booth," she murmured.

**Bones tonight! Who else is hoping that Hannah comes to her senses, realizes that Booth loves Bones way more than he could ever love her and heads on back to Afghanistan?**


	5. Love II

**I'm in the middle of chapters for **_**First a Dream **_**and**_** So Many Ways to Say Goodbye. **_**I also have a Valentine's Day one-shot that I started last week and am hoping to finish soon. But I felt bad for not posting anything in so long so I decided to write another one of these little snapshots. Pure fluff. Quick and simple. Hope ya'll enjoy!**__

Let me tell you something about Bones: there's this look she gets when she tells me she loves me. Part hesitation, part fear, part trust. It took her a long time to say it. I had been telling her every day for weeks before she choked it out.

It came as surprise, the way most things do with her. We were in my office, talking a case. A kid had been murdered by his father—a decent man who'd turned to abuse and alcohol after his wife died. Bones had interrogated the victim's surviving twin brother and it was a heartbreaking, beautiful thing to watch. She said she wasn't good with kids, but I knew she was wrong. I could see it in the way she held the little boy's eye, touched his hand, said all the right things in this gentle, soothing voice that told me she'd be a good mother.

When she walked out of the room, I was waiting for her. She walked over to me and I wordlessly folded her into my arms. It had been a hard week filled with short fuses and arguments and feeling so frustrated I wanted to just crawl out of my skin. But in that moment after talking to the little boy, it all just melted away. I took one look at her sad eyes, the hard line of her mouth, the furrow between her eyebrows and knew she was fighting hard to not fall apart in the hallway. So I gathered her into my sad and guided her into my office.

As soon as I shut the door and pulled the shades, she crumpled and I was there to hold her. "This is hard, Booth," she breathed into my shoulder, her tears wet against my neck.

"I know, babe," I whispered back, stroking her back, pressing my lips to her hair.

She was quiet for a minute, her breathing still a little rough. I felt her fingers tighten around the fabric of my jacket. "Booth," she murmured, her face hidden against my chest. "I love you."

I stilled. Sometimes, she was so innocent I could weep. "Bones," I said, my voice full of memory, "I love you, too."

She pulled back then and I could see it in her face: the hesitation, the fear, the happiness. But I saw something else, too—a trust in me that ran so deep it swam in the blue of her eyes. "I love you, too," I breathed again, stroking the hair back from her face, kissing her lips, kissing her forehead. "I love you, too."

**Cute right? If only this would happen on the show. Here's to hoping I suppose. **

**REVIEWS=LOVE. Just sayin'.**


	6. Beautiful

**More cuteness. I hope this brings a smile to your face in these dark, fluff-less times on Bones. :)**

Let me tell you something about Bones: she is beautiful. And I'm not talking about the shiny, glamorous beauty you see on magazine covers (although, she can be pretty damn glamorous when she wants to be). I'm talking about a raw, natural, no-need-for-makeup, makes-my-breath-catch, heart-stopping kind of beauty.

And what kills me, what really gets me, is that she has no idea. She has absolutely no idea how perfect she is. Whenever I catch some guy ogling her, she always says things like, "I _am _very attractive, Booth" or "I'm aware of how physically appealing I am," but when I move in close and kiss her pink lips and look into her eyes and say, "You're beautiful," her gaze skitters away from my face. She drops her head. Lifts one hand to my chest, pressing gently. Murmurs, "Thank you," and I know, I just _know_, she doesn't _quite _believe me.

Sometimes, I watch her get ready for bed. I know there's that long standing cliché of guys getting off on watching their girlfriends get all dolled up for a night out on the town. And don't get me wrong, I like admiring Bones' pre-party ritual as well, but there is something about her nighttime routine that just _gets _me. It's normal, and careful, and deliberate. She goes about it the same way she goes about solving a crime—logically.

The shoes come off first. Then the slacks and blouse. In the beginning of our relationship, she'd always go into the bathroom to take off her bra and panties, but that pretense of shyness disappeared after a couple of months. Now she'll just strip right in front of me. And maybe it's the no-nonsense way she does about it—unhook bra, pull off bra, step out of panties—but I swear it's more sexy than any strip tease could ever be. Then she slips on a pair of pajamas and moves into the bathroom to brush her teeth.

I have to admit, in all those years of fantasizing, one of the things I pondered the most was what pajamas (or lack-there-of) Bones slept in. My daydreams spanned from naked to a completely unflattering, flannel getup with, surprisingly, no real preference for either end of the spectrum. The first time I actually saw Bones in pajamas, it was a good two weeks into our relationship. I was already in bed, pretending to flip through a magazine while really watching Bones root through her bottom drawer. When she came up with a pair of what I strongly suspected were men's flannel pajamas, I actually laughed out loud.

She looked up at me, looking a little alarmed. "What are you laughing at?"

I cast a significant glance to the pajamas she held in her hand. "No lingerie, Bones?" I asked teasingly.

"No," she said, entirely indignant. "I find lingerie to be quite uncomfortable."

I stood up from the bed and walked over to her. "You don't need lingerie, babe," I murmured, bending my head to kiss her neck. "You could make a potato sack look sexy."

"Why would I be wearing a potato sack?" she asked with that I-don't-know-what-that-means tone to her voice. I pulled back slightly and gave her look. "Oh," she said, grinning slowly as the joke dawned on her. "You're implying that I'm so attractive that I could even make a highly unattractive outfit, such as a potato sack, look appealing."

"Sexy," I corrected. "I said you could make it look sexy, Bones, but yes, you're analysis is right."

"Hmm," she sighed, relaxing into my body. "Thank you, Booth."

Ever since then, every time she emerges from the bathroom in her ridiculous, baggy, _adorable_, flannel PJs, I pull her onto the bed beside me, roll over until she's tucked under my body and whisper, "You're beautiful."

And even after all this time, she still gets that disbelieving look on her face—hand pressed to my chest, gaze turned away. "Thank you," she whispers and I kiss her lips and kiss her neck until she's laughing in my arms, breathless and happy and loved.

**Hope ya'll like it. Reviews always appreciated.**


	7. Vulnerability

**It looks like we've reached the light at the end of the tunnel, my friends. Last night's episode was UH-mazing. Was that Booth and Bones discussing their **_**relationship **_**and **_**fate **_**and **_**love? **_**Um, yes, folks. I think it was.**

**Here's a cute, fluff drabble to celebrate! **

Let me tell you something about Bones: she has never been sick in her life. Well, by _her_ account at least. _I_ know she's been sick at least three times since we partnered up, possibly four, but that could have been allergies. The thing is, even when she's really down in the dumps, chilled and glassy-eyed and coughing every other minute, she never admits it. It's like the damn elephant in the room.

There she'll be, sitting at her desk surrounded by a mound of tissues with unidentified liquid streaming from her nose and eyes and she'll pretend she's never been better. Healthy as a horse. Well, healthy as a _hose, _were her exact words, but I corrected her right before I coerced her into taking some Advil and heading home for a "power nap".

She agreed, but still didn't acknowledge the fact that her body was practically shutting down before my eyes. She didn't try to kiss me, _thank God. _I mean, I love the woman. I really do. But even I refuse to brave the bubonic plague for a peck on the lips. Later that night, I came home and found her collapsed on the couch, buried under a pile of papers. I couldn't help but laugh and it was a testament to how out of it she was that she barely even stirred.

Bones is a notoriously light sleeper. Any stirring in the house, any strange noise and she'll be bolt upright in bed, face alert, ready for a fight. Every time it happens, I try not to think about what happened to make her that way. What (or who) damaged her so badly that she can barely ever put her guard down, even in sleep.

When we first started seeing each other, on those first few nights sharing a bed, she insisted on her space. We'd partake in a little post-sex cuddling, but as soon as it was time for bed, she'd role away, putting a good five inches between our bodies. Like clockwork, almost every night, something would happen that would spook her out of sleep. I'd wake up a few seconds after her and soothe her back to sleep. The first couple times it happened, when she turned and saw me next to her, the most heartbreakingly raw look of gratefulness would settle across her features. I'd smile and rub her back and reassure her until her eyes drooped again, but I couldn't help but picture her waking up all alone, scared of the monster in the next room.

Usually, when I'd lull her back to sleep, I'd gather her to my chest and hold her tight and whisper in her ear until the demons receded. The first couple times, right when she hit that boarder between sleep and wakefulness, she'd roll away from me, quietly reclaiming her space. Then one night, she didn't. She fell asleep right there in my arms, cheek pressed to my chest, head tucked under my chin.

I stayed up for a few more minutes, fingers tracing absent circles on her back. I was just drifting off again when I heard a small thud in her living room. I immediately glanced down at her face, waiting for her to wake up, but she didn't. She kept right on sleeping, peaceful as ever and I immediately made the connection. I have to say, in that moment, I felt pretty damn proud.

"You sleep better in my arms," I told her the next morning.

She didn't argue right away. She was sleepy. "How do you know?"

I explained what had happened the night before and to my surprise, she immediately accepted my theory. "It makes sense," she rationalized. "If I am able to sense danger in my sleep, it follows that I'd be able sense safety as well."

"I'm safety?" I asked, unable to hide my delight.

She gave me a look. "Booth," was all she said, but I got the picture and schooled the foolish grin off my face.

As I stood beside the couch, studying her unconscious form, I mused that full-on viral attacks are also sufficient at sweeping the sense of danger right out of her. I had a feeling a freight train could roll through the living room and she'd probably barely even stir.

Sighing quietly to myself, I crouched down and lifted her into my arms easily, carrying her into the bedroom where I deposited her gently under the covers. Only then did she open her eyes and blink blearily at me. "I'm not sick," she said.

I nodded affectionately and leaned down to press a quick kiss to her brow. "Whatever you say, Bones. Whatever you say."

**Adorableness. Ridiculous. I love them so much! **

**(I also love reviews, just so you know.) **


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